


Night Out: Upscale Steakhouse(VriskaXReader)

by orphan_account



Series: Night Out reader inserts [5]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/F, Flushed Romance | Matesprits, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-16
Updated: 2014-12-15
Packaged: 2018-03-01 17:11:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2781131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Vriska, Terezi, Gamzee and Homestuck belong to Hussie<br/>The writing belongs to me<br/>You belong to Vriska</p></blockquote>





	Night Out: Upscale Steakhouse(VriskaXReader)

You stared out the window in shock at the building your parent’s car was driving up to. You look down at your jean skirt and dark blue polo, than up at your parents.

 

“You’ve got to be kidding me, right?” you demanded. “There’s no way I’m dressed nicely enough for this place, and didn’t you say it was really expensive?”

 

Your mother pulled into the closest parking space, and then turned around in her seat. The glare from her made you sink back into your seat.

 

“(Y/n),” she said quietly, “I have had a very long day at work. We have all had a long day. We all deserve a little treat. And it is none of your concern what money we spend. I will take care of it. Are we clear?”

 

You shrank down, guilt filling your mind. “Yes, Mama. Sorry, Mama.”

 

Your mother nodded. “Good. And dear,” she said, “you look fine.”

 

You smiled. All of you climbed out of the car. Your little sister jumped out like the little daredevil she was, and your father barely caught her before she flew into the sleek silver convertible beside you. Your brother facepalmed. You shook your head. 

 

Your father held the door for everyone as you walked into the steakhouse. Soft lights showed burgundy leather booths and matching burgundy and black printed carpet. Delicious smells wafted out of the kitchen, and waiters and waitresses moved quickly through the halls. There was a small group of people waiting; an elderly couple who, judging by their conversation, were expecting a grandchild’s graduation party, a couple random couples, and your family.

 

The hostess said there would be a small wait, so you and your family sat down on the waiting benches. There was no more room on the bench they sat at, so you sat at the one across from them. Your brother pulled out his phone and began reading the Pokemon wiki to pass time, and your sister looked over his shoulder, occasionally asking for him to look up a Pokemon. Your parents quietly talked about their work days. And you?

 

Well, you people-watched and eavesdropped. At least until the door blew open with a gust of cooling air.

 

A troll girl that looked about your age strolled in like she owned the place. Jet black hair billowed around her, blowing with the wind. Her gray canvas coat fluttered out behind her, and her right arm was replaced by a gleaming silver prosthetic, which looked a lot more limblike than human prosthetics. She walked up to the desk and leaned on her elbow, grinning at the hostess.

 

“I have a reservation for two, at seven. The name’s Serket.” Her voice was smooth and attractive, but carried a dark undertone to it. It sent a shiver down your spine.

 

The hostess looked flustered. “Er, give me a moment to check, miss. Why don’t you have a seat?”

 

The girl nodded, and went over to the waiting area. She flopped down right next to you, and you froze for a moment, then slowly relaxed. The smell of blackberries hung in the air around her. She pulled out a device that looked like the troll version of a smartphone, and began typing away.

 

You pulled out your portable idea notebook, and pretended to look at it while you studied her facial features. Up close, you could see her irises were a light cerulean blue. Her nose looked like it had been broken a few times, but it added character rather than detracting beauty from her face. She wore thin-rimmed glasses, and there were a few faint scars on the left side of her face. Occasionally she would play with the black widow charm hanging from the edge of her jacket. There was something wrong with her left eye; maybe it wasn’t a real eye. You couldn’t tell.

 

You lifted the page on your notebook, and began to write her basic features on the next page from the one you had open, so she couldn’t see. This girl was interesting enough that she was definitely becoming a walk on in the story you were working on, or maybe even a full character. She acted like an heiress, and if you recalled that three parter on the History Channel you watched about the troll caste system, those trolls with blue blood, and blue eyes, were something like the aristocracy of their society.

 

She didn’t look like a pampered girl, though; the scars and the nose spoke to that. Maybe she was an athlete of some kind, or maybe she was a warrior or something for the ex-empress of Alternia. Though, she did look a little too young to do that sort of thing. You sucked at guessing troll ages.

 

Well, whatever she truly was, she would become something interesting when you got home tonight. She looked like the fighting type, definitely. Come to think of it, that original story you’d worked on obsessively for a month, then stopped working on because you needed a villain, could use a daring pirate captain, who sailed unfamiliar seas in search of the greatest treasure ever known to man or troll.

 

Of course, that would probably require said pirate not having stolen your notebook straight out of you lap while you were lost in la-la land.

 

“Hey,” you hissed, in an attempt not to alert your parents to your situation. “Give that back.”

 

She smirked at you, then turned back to reading the page you had written your musings on. You could feel your face burning,

 

“Preeeeeeeetty close,” she said, tossing you your notebook and turning to you. Now both disconcerting cerulean eyes were fixed on you. “That was a great guess with the pirate bit.”

 

She grinned and leaned back in her seat, stretching and showing off toned stomach muscles in the process. Her shirt had a strange symbol on it, something you dimly remembered from your magic obsessed phase. Maybe a zodiac symbol?

 

You raised an eyebrow. “Let me guess, at some point you actually were a pirate?”

 

She laughed. It sounded cold, but it was still strangely attractive. “Close. I roleplayed as one.”

 

“You don’t seem like the type for Renaissance Faire type stuff,” you commented, leaning back yourself. She turned and met your eyes. Hers were filled with mirth.

 

“Nope,” she said, popping the P sound. “Troll FLARPing is _muuuuuuuuch_ more dangerous than your wimpy human stuff.”

 

“Oh really?” The wimpy human comment didn’t exactly endear her to you.

 

“Do humans ever _die_ during their roleplaying?”

 

That shut you up.

 

Before you could think of a good comeback, the hostess called, “Miss Serket?”

 

She got to her feet, flipping her hair over her shoulder as she did. “Be seeing you.” 

 

She sauntered over to the desk, and then followed the waitress over to the seating area. Your brain told you to be thankful she was gone, but you felt a small twinge of sadness that you hadn’t gotten to talk to her more.

 

_Wait, wait, twinge of sadness, (y/n)? You don’t even know her!_

 

You shook your head as the hostess called. “(L/n) party of five, (l/n) party of five?”

 

Your family rose and followed the hostess, your mind half on making sure you didn’t trip and half on the troll girl. You completely forgot to map out the path to the door, and almost ran into a few people. Maybe it was more like three quarters of your mind was on the girl.

 

You slid into the booth the waitress gestured to, next to your brother. You glanced at the menu, tried to ignore your sister whining that there wasn’t anything she wanted, then glanced up to see-oh _hell_ no.

 

This could not be happening. The universe has to be fucking with you. Right?

 

You hid your face in the menu, desperately hoping your parents wouldn’t notice your flaming face. God had just decided to throw you for a loop with the troll girl who had teased you and another troll girl sitting right opposite to your table. Of course, more bad luck for you. First you couldn’t finish your blog post, then you were stuck with going out, now there’s a mean hot girl sitting opposite you-

 

Brain, did you really just call her hot? Are you even _listening_ to yourself?

 

You bit your lip hard enough to draw blood. Pretending to decide what to eat, you watched the troll girls talk. The other had short hair and bright red glasses, and kept laughing rather loudly while she talked about justice and art and bitched about someone called Gamzee who was apparently her...kismesis or something like that, you couldn’t tell. The girl you had talked to paid close attention while she devoured one of the little rolls on the table. You felt a tiny twinge of something in your gut, that you automatically decided was certainly not jealousy. You didn’t even know her name, you couldn’t be jealous!

 

That apparently didn’t stop you from watching them the rest of the night. You picked at your chicken, though it was delicious, and spent most of your mental energy not letting the spider girl out of your site. She didn’t really leave the table, unlike the glasses girl who got up at least five times, for what you had no idea. Your mother and father kept giving you worried glances when you stared off into the distance(insert air quotes here), and you tried to reassure them, but they weren’t really having it.

 

It didn’t take long for your family to finish, except for you. When your mom was done paying, she looked at you, with half your food still on your plate. Your sister was getting antsy, your brother was bored, and your father looked tired. You sighed and said, “Look guys, give me ten minutes and I’ll be done. You’ll at least have the sound system to keep you occupied.”

 

The girl hadn’t looked at you since she left the waiting area. You were just being silly when you expected her to notice you. 

 

Your mother hesitantly nodded, and everyone got up except you. You waved to them as they left, then plopped your head in your hands. You couldn’t believe yourself. Your life wasn’t a romcom. This wasn’t the magical moment when you met your soulmate in a fucking _steakhouse_ , for the love of every deity in the universe.

 

You didn’t take long to finish your meal in a little funk. What was left, the waitress packed up in a box. When you shrugged your coat on, you glanced up at the girl’s table. She was gone. You frowned to yourself. Hadn’t she been there a moment ago?

 

Something cold and feeling suspiciously like an arm settled over your shoulder. “Now, now, what’s wrong, girlie?”

 

You jumped and twisted in your seat, only to freeze at the shit-eating grin on the troll girl’s face, as well as the fact that she had wrapped her prosthetic arm around you tightly. She had somehow paid her bill, crossed the aisle, and slid into your booth without you noticing. You opened your mouth, struggling for words, and her grin got even wider.

 

It took you a moment, but you managed to force words to your lips. “I beg your pardon?”

 

She rolled her eyes and pulled you up, out of your seat and down the path out of the restauraunt. “Pleeeeeeeease, you were staring at me the whole time you were here. I’m not stupid."

 

The drawing out of her vowels was seriously annoying you, as well as how easily you were allowing yourself to be dragged around by her. You let her drag you around for a minute longer, until you got to the door. Then, you yanked yourself out from under her arm, jabbed her in her ribs, using a trick you had picked up in self defense, and whirled around, stretching yourself up to match her in height.

 

You jabbed a finger in her face. “Look, I don’t know who you are, girl-”

 

“Vriska,” she interrupted, still with the smug grin on her face. You ignored it.

 

“Vriska, then,” you said, waving it off, “I don’t know who you think you are, but you don’t just drag people out of their tables, no matter how you think you can get away with it or how hot you are. You’re lucky I left my taser at home, or else you would be writhing on the floor right now.” you informed her, before you flounced out the door, only for your face to explode once you walked into the parking lot.

 

Shit, you had admitted you thought she was hot out loud.

 

You walked as quickly as you could out to your parents’ car, still feeling the heat on your face. It was dark by now, and you felt just a little nervous walking in the parking lot. The silver convertible next to the car was now running with the top down, and someone sat in the passenger seat with a glowing mobile phone. Your brother slid the door open very quickly as you approached, for which you were grateful, and you were about to thank him when his eyes widened. You were about to ask him what was wrong when you were spun around.

 

Cold lips pressed to yours, a piece of paper was shoved into your hand, and then Vriska literally jumped over the side of the convertible into the driver’s seat. The engine roared, the car flew backward, and she gave you a wicked grin and a wave before peeling out of the parking lot. You were left standing there with a burning face, clutching the paper tightly.

 

Oh, you were so getting her back for that.

**Author's Note:**

> Vriska, Terezi, Gamzee and Homestuck belong to Hussie  
> The writing belongs to me  
> You belong to Vriska


End file.
